


The Sacrifices We Make

by lonnevox



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: ... eventually - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Coma, Depression, Developing Relationship, Drug Use, Eventual Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Out of Body Experiences, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Tree Bros, galaxy girls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonnevox/pseuds/lonnevox
Summary: 'Evan hit the ground with a dull, and muffled thump. His vision went black, and his consciousness began to fade away. The last thing he heard before he fell into total, and absolute unconsciousness was the distant chirping of birds that sounded almost painfully happy and full of hope.'Evan's fall out of a tree - accidental or not - left him not only with a broken arm, but in a seemingly unending coma until he finds himself suddenly on top of an abandoned building rooftop with none other than Connor Murphy.





	The Sacrifices We Make

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this AU floating around in my head for a couple of days, and even tho I haven't written anything for a while, I decided what the heck and wrote the first chapter anyway. Comments are great motivation! Thanks for reading!!
> 
> Also!! I drew something for this AU when I first got the idea [here](https://lonnevox.tumblr.com/post/168274348066/the-sacrifices-we-make-ao3-an-au-where-evans)!!!
> 
> content warnings for: suicide, suicide mentions, panic attacks, and swearing.

Evan felt the rough bark slip from between his fingers as he fell towards the dry, dirty earth that hadn’t seen any rain in at least two weeks. It had been an accident; truly it was. He knew he had a split second to reach out his other hand and grasp the next closest branch which would have stopped his spontaneous plunge towards the ground.

But he didn’t. In that split second, Evan wanted to die. To feel the release from the stress and strifes that his life had brought him, in death. No more worries, or anxious thoughts, or stomach churning phone calls, and especially no more added stress that his existence brought to his mother. Evan Hansen wanted to die.

And so, he let himself fall from the tree (it was a Scarlet Oak; one that he thought must be at least two hundred years old). He closed his eyes, felt the rushing air against his hot, and slightly sun burnt skin, and prepared to take his last breath.

Evan hit the ground with a dull, and muffled thump. His vision went black, and his consciousness began to fade away. The last thing he heard before he fell into total, and absolute unconsciousness was the distant chirping of birds that sounded almost painfully happy and full of hope.

 

***

 

_ Beep……… Beep……… Beep……...Beep……… _

A steady, but faint beeping sound began to pull Evan towards consciousness. Sort of. The beeping sound became louder, and other noises began to slip into his mind. Voices; one male, two female; two unfamiliar and strange voices, and one familiar voice, filled with worry. His mum!

He focused on the words the male voice was catching despite only catching one or two words every so often such as “broken arm”, “concussion”, and “coma”. Ah.

So he hadn’t died after all; he’d just slipped into a coma. Evan couldn’t say he was either terribly happy that he survived or terribly disappointed that he hadn’t died. His decision to willingly fall out of the tree in a suicide attempt was an impromptu one after all. 

Whether Evan was happy that he had survived his fall or not was neither here nor there, he decided; at the very least his mum would’ve had closure had he died. But being stuck in a coma? This was the last thing he wanted for his mother as she now had to wait for him to wake up; if he ever woke up at all, that is.

That was a thought Evan immediately banished from his head though, knowing that if he never woke up, it would have to be his mum who would have to make the decision to pull the plug. He never wanted this.

Evan felt a wave of panic sweep across his body; or at least what he thought to be his body. Despite returning to what he thought was consciousness, as he could hear the beep of a heart rate machine and the voices of doctors, nurses, and visitors, he realised he was still shrouded in darkness. He attempted to open his eyes, and meet the blinding white light that washed over the room but he couldn’t.

No matter how hard he tried, or how much he begged his body to, he couldn’t open his eyes. Now his mind was cleared from the commonplace noises found in hospitals, and his thoughts on his failed, spontaneous suicide attempt, he focused on his body. His physical body. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t feel the sheets beneath his body or the mattress he lay on. He couldn’t feel the light blanket that was most likely covering the lower half of his body, or the various tubes he knew he was hooked up to.

Panic began to seep into his mind. This couldn’t be happening. He had to wake up. Tell his mum he was going to be alright. Tell him mum he loved her. Tell her that he was sorry for not being a better son.

Beyond the blackness that surrounded him, he could hear his heart rate monitor quicken, and the doctor abandon whatever conversation he was having with his mother. He could also hear his breathing quicken and become shallow. He knew he had to slow his breathing down but he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

The more he tried to move his body, or interact with anything surrounding him, the more he found he couldn’t. And the more he found he couldn’t do anything he tried, the more he panicked. The same kind of panic that twisted around his his heart, lungs and stomach. The same kind of panic that made it hard to breath and made it hard to keep his food in his stomach.

The same kind of panic that infected his every thought, and repeated in his mind over and over and over again until he could think of nothing else.

As panic consumed Evan’s mind becoming his one and only priority, he didn’t notice the sounds of his doctor and nurses quickly talking above his or the creeping darkness that threatened to steal his consciousness away. Through his panic addled mind, he soon realised the familiar and, quite honestly, comforting darkness that crept silently into his mind.

Willingly, he let the darkness take him back into unconsciousness and away from the tendrils of panic that infected his mind.

 

***

 

The next thing Evan remembered was the soft, warm light of the setting sun. It startled him when he realised what it was. He expected to see the bright, white hospital lights above him or at the very least, the bright, early morning sun.

He frowned slightly, looking around him…. Looking…. He could see! Sort of. The world was slowly coming back into focus, and he was beginning to feel the warm, late summer air against his skin. The soft light of the setting sun was the first thing he noticed… And something dark, and tall just ahead of him.

Evan furrowed his eyebrows in concentrating as his vision returned. The dark shape, he realised, was a person who wasn’t as tall as he first thought. They’d just been standing atop a ledge that came up just above his knees. He noticed that there was a gap of a couple meters that separated them, and that the other appeared to be looking at the abandoned apple orchard below the building; or so he thought.

As the world became clear, and focused, he suddenly realised that the other (who he didn’t know, or at least couldn’t recognise, nor did he have time to) had not been enjoying the view, but instead had something more dark and worrisome planned.

They began to slowly tip over the edge. Evan’s eyes widened as he realised what was happening, and before he could stop himself, he closed the gap between them quicker than he thought possible. He grabbed blindly onto the back of the other’s jacket, and pulled them towards him causing the pair to stumble and fall backwards.

The taller person landed with a loud thump, and grunted in both surprise and pain. Evan’s fall, on the other hand, was silent. No thump as he body landed against the concrete roof, and no grunt in pain. 

His last few memories suddenly came flooding back to him where they had not been before. He’d allowed himself to fall from the tree. He partly awoke in the hospital. He was supposed to be in a coma in the hospital, surrounded by doctors and nurses and his mum. Not- Not on the roof with another person who also happened to be just as suicidal, if not more. The person who he had roughly pulled away from the ledge.

The person who was Connor Murphy.

Oh. Oh no. Nope. No. No way. Nuh uh. No. He did not just cause Connor fucking Murphy to fall off of the ledge. He was going to be beaten up for sure. Or worse. He’d heard the rumors and speculation that someone like Connor Murphy could very easily kill a person.

Evan risked another glance towards Connor, hoping his expression would give away his intentions. He… He didn’t look angry; which came as both a great relief, and as a surprise because Connor looked pissed at anyone who looked at him wrong. Instead, he looked both confused and like he had just seen a ghost.

What the absolute fuck was happening?

 

***

 

Connor took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly, leaning his head against the brickwall behind him. He’d much rather fling himself off the top of an abandoned building high as a kite, but he’d recently run out of his stash and hadn’t found the time to buy some more. While he was high, he wouldn’t feel the numbness that sobriety brought.

At least, he thought with a sigh, it would be over soon. He wouldn’t have to feel, that numb but still paradoxically painful feeling that clinical depression brought. Neither would he continue to be a bother or a disappointment to his family anymore; they’d be better off without him anyway, Zoe especially.

Standing up from where he sat, he dropped his cigarette onto the concrete and put it out with his show. Connor stepped up onto the ledge, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and looked down towards the abandoned apple orchard that was both his favourite and least favourite place to be. Favourite in that it was quiet, and no body bothered him there; he was free to get lost in his thoughts for as long as he cared to. Least favourite in that it held memories that he found painful to remember; memories of a time before he was a disappointment to his parents, and labeled as a problem child.

It was beautiful though, the orchard in the soft, orange glow of the setting sun, despite the darkened haze old memories often gave it. He was even a little happy that this would be the last thing he saw before died.

Connor closed his eyes, and took a deep breath in, completely and utterly unaware that not only was he not as alone as he thought, but was being watched. He took his hands out from his pockets and began to tip forward; ignoring the gut churning feeling in his gut that commanded him to regain his balance. 

For a moment, he thought he had subconsciously regained his balance (a natural instinct to survive or something) when he began to tip backwards. Connor then realised he hadn’t regained his own balance but someone was pulling him back over the ledge. He felt an anger begin to burn in his chest, that quickened his heart and clenched his jaw.

Who the fuck is saving him? And why the fuck would they want to?

Connor took a step back to avoid falling onto the person behind him. He forgot for a second however, that he was standing on a ledge and stepped back onto nothing causing him to fall on his ass with a painful grunt anyway.

Turning to face the person who had pulled him backwards, Connor almost began yelling obscenities and other such curses to realise the anger pent up inside him when he stopped, and the anger died down. It hadn’t disappeared altogether, but it wasn’t as fearsome as it had been.

He recognised the one that had pulled him down from the ledge. What was his name…? ...Hansen?... Something Hansen? The only other social outcast in their year, and the kid that seemed to have a panic attack anytime a teacher called to him in class.

But there was something wrong with him. Something strange; something off…

And then it hit him like a tonne of bricks. Why had he not noticed it before hand? He could see straight through Hansen. What the fuck. What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he dead or some bullshit and now he was haunting him? But why the fuck would Hansen haunt him? He hadn’t done anything particularly bad to him, at least not anything worthy enough that he had to be haunted by him.

Was something wrong with  _ him _ ? Perhaps he had survived the fall and is now in hospital dreaming this? But again, why Hansen? Fuck, he didn’t even know the kid’s first name. Just the impossible, and confusing situation was making his anger rise again rather than how Hansen had foiled his suicide attempt.

“What the fuck is  _ wrong  _ with you?” Connor asked, staring at the other.

Evan jumped a foot in the air when Connor spoke, and frantically looked everywhere around Connor except Connor himself. If he didn’t know how anxious the other was around everyone from the few classes they shared together, he would be insulted by how nervous Evan seemed to be.

“I- uh- I couldn’t let you-” he began, stuttering whilst he fiddled with his fingers. “I-I mean- I wouldn’t- I couldn’t stop- I-I’m sorry-”

Connor cut him off before the kid had an aneurysm or a panic attack or something of that nature. “No, I mean what the fuck is wrong with  _ you _ ? I can see right fucking through you. That’s not fucking normal.”

Evan cocked his head to the side in confusion; the sudden accusation that he was see-through that had come out of left field stunned him too much too panic at the harsh tone of Connor’s voice. “W-what- What d-do you- what?” He stuttered out.

He held his hands out in front of him and looked down. Connor watched as the other teen began to shake and tremble at this shocking, and obviously new, revelation. He saw tears appear in the corners of Hansen’s eyes, as what little colour was left in his face drained from it. His breath became shallow and quickened.

Connor glanced around the rooftop for a second wondering what the fuck situation had he landed himself in. And why was he the one who had to deal with it? Before he could even begin forming coherent sentences, a torrent of words came flooding from Evan’s mouth.

“Why-why can I-I see through myself?! Am-Am I dead? Am I a- am I a ghost? Are ghosts even real? I can’t- I can’t remember dying. I was- I was in a coma. I was in a coma, at the hospital. Why am I here? I-I-I can’t possibly be here?” Evan breathed for a moment, before continuing quickly (Connor was too stunned by his sudden onslaught of babbling to interrupt.). “And-and why am I with you? Oh no- oh, I’m sorry- that was so rude of me, I’m sorry. Oh god, ugh why did I say that?” 

He stopped again and this time Connor interrupted him. “Hansen, stop talking.” He said a little harsher than he meant to (he justified this as come back for interfering with his suicide attempt), as he brushed the small particles of dirt and gravel on his hands. “Breathe, you’re only making it worse for yourself.” He added quickly despite himself.

Much to Connor’s surprise, Evan stopped talking and instead balled up his shirt in his fists as he began to concentrate on slowing down his breathing.

Connor half-watched, half-glared at Evan as he calmed himself; on one hand he was pissed that Evan had “saved” him since his suicide attempt had nothing to do with him so he should just fuck off and leave him alone. On the other hand however, the strangeness of the situation he found himself in caused his feelings of anger and annoyance to dull due to a growing sense of confusion.

“Your name,” Connor began once he had noticeably calmed down. “What is it?”

“Huh?” Evan replied, looking back up at Connor who now lazily rested his arm on the ledge he had been standing on. “Oh, it’s Evan.”

“Evan Hansen?” He repeated as he pushed himself away from the ledge and stood up.

“Uh, yes,” Evan replied, as he followed Connor’s lead and stood up. “You’re- you’re Connor Murphy, right?”

“Mhm.” Connor hummed in reply as he began to make his way towards the door that lead to the stairway.

“Where- where are you going?” Evan asked, confusion evident in his voice.

“Home.” Connor answered simply as he began to descend the five flights of stairs to the ground floor.

“But um,” Evan began nervously, following Connor down the flights of stairs. “What um- what about-”

Connor cut him off. “‘What about you?’” He finished, raising an eyebrow at Evan. “I don’t care, Hansen.”

“But-”

“Hansen.” Connor interrupted again, stopping on the third floor and turning to glare daggers at Evan. “I. Don’t. Care.” 

His annoyance at Evan and the situation were slowing growing. His palms sweated as he dug his nails painfully into them, and his shoulders tensed. He was annoyed that Evan had caused him to miss his opportunity; he wouldn’t be fine tomorrow, hell, he’d be lucky to get out of bed but he wouldn’t be as enthused by the idea of throwing himself off a building. He was annoyed that this whole situation didn’t make any sense in the slightest. And he was annoyed because Evan Hansen thought that he wanted to be any part of this.

Connor turned, and continued to descend the stairs before he said anything worse to Evan.

Once he had reached the bottom, he shouldered the door he had broken the lock on years prior and glanced towards Evan, still anxiously following him despite his harsh words, and threatening glare.

“Go home, Hansen.” He said, forcing his voice to a neutral, indifferent tone. “I have no idea what’s wrong with you, and honestly, I’m too tired to give a shit. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Al-alright,” Evan began hesitantly, “I’ll um- see you then, Connor.” 

“See you.” Connor replied robotically.

For a moment, Evan said nothing more, standing nervously next to Connor. It looked like he wanted to say something more, perhaps about his suicidal intentions, apathetic feelings towards the situation, or his rude nature; perhaps about something else entirely, but he thought better of it, gave a small, awkward wave and walked away.

Connor watched as Evan began to walk down the street in the opposite direction, and presumably, in the direction he lived in. He pursed his lips and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. The thought that he should have been more insistent on giving the other, nervous teen a ride home even if he were a ghost or whatever the hell he was, but it soon left him as quickly as it had come.

He was about to turn his gaze away from Evan when he noticed the other stop, turn around slightly, and look towards the sidewalk. A frown of confusion was etched onto Connor’s face as he turned his full attention back to Evan, who also looked to be as confused as he was.

Evan turned back around, his back facing Connor, and took a step forward.

It was as if Evan had suddenly become the world’s best mime, and was pretending to walk against an impossibly strong wind. 

Evan turned around once more, glancing towards the sidewalk before looking up at Connor who stood a good fifty feet away at the point.

One part out of curiosity, and one part out of anger and annoyance that Evan wouldn’t just leave him alone to lament over his failed suicide attempt, he made his way towards him.

“What the  _ fuck _ are you doing?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. Evan winched slightly at his tone and Connor bit his tongue in annoyance; to himself however, rather than Evan knowing that whatever was happening to them both, wasn’t Evan’s fault.

“I um, I can’t- um,” he stuttered, finding a particularly interesting stain on his shirt to stare at before looking back up at Connor. “It-It sounds stupid or- or unbelievable even, but I can’t- couldn’t walk.”

“Huh?” Conner replied, confusion dripping in his voice.

“Like um- this might sound- well, um odd actually, b-but it’s like- it’s like there’s a uh, rope around my waist and I- I can’t move?” He said, phrasing his explanation more like a question that Connor may know the answer of; which he didn’t, of course. “If-if that makes any sense.” He added quickly, looking at everything but Connor, just as he had done on the rooftop, as he shuffled anxiously from foot to foot.

“None of this-” he made a lazy gesture with his hand that meant he was speaking about this rather odd situation he had unwillingly found himself in. “-makes any sense, Hansen.”

“Ah- sorry, right, yes, sorry.” He mumbled quickly.

Connor rolled his eyes. “Stop saying that, you haven’t offended anyone.”

“So-” Evan caught himself, and just nodded. “Can I um-” he began, biting his lip for a moment before continuing quickly. “CanIaskyoutodosomthingforme?”

“What?” Connor asked, not catching the quick mumbling of words that came out of Evan’s mouth.

“Can I uh- can I ask you to do something for me?” He replied slower, and clearer this time, but was instead staring at a particular part of the sidewalk.

“No.” Connor replied harshly, as a familiar feeling of annoyance crept it’s way into his chest. He didn’t hate Evan Hansen, but he wanted to go home and never have to speak to the other again, let alone do a favour for him.

“Um All-all you would have to do is- is stand there.” He said, pulling on his shirt. “I-I have um, a theory, I-I guess.”

“Hansen,” he groaned, wishing now that he had saved at least one cigarette for this strained conversation. “I want to go to bed, and pretend like this day hasn’t happened and owing you a favour would mean that it did happen, so no Evan Hansen, I won’t stand here for you.”

“P-please?” Evan started, before pausing for a moment, perhaps hearing the too-desperate desperation in his voice. “I-I need to know if my theory is true. Please?”

Connor huffed loudly, showing his contempt for Evan and his ‘theory’. “Fine, whatever. Just make it quick,” he replied, throwing his gaze towards the abandoned orchard before glancing back at Evan. “And, if your theory is just going to humiliate me, then I swear Hansen-”

Evan interrupted him quickly, stumbling and stuttering over his words as he balled his t-shirt into his fists. “I-I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do something- something like that, I-I swear.”   
  
Connor paused for a moment, studying the nervous wreck of the other in front of him. His eyes were wide, and pleading and he doubted that Evan could lie that convincingly on his good days. “Fine, whatever.” He repeated, shrugging

A tiny smile appeared on Evan’s face as his eyes lit up. “Ah! Thanks Connor-” Connor grunted, waving away his thanks. “-Just, um- stay there. I’ll um- I’ll be back in a moment.”

Connor watched as Evan walked past him in the opposite direction he had come in before he stopped. Just like before, he walked with his head down and his shoulders tense. Just like before, he stopped. For a moment he stood there contemplating something or another, before he turned on his heel, look back at him, and shout something incomprehensible to Connor.

Connor made a nonchalant gesture signalling to Evan that he hadn’t a clue what he had said. Evan’s shoulders dropped in response, before he hesitantly raised his hand to his mouth and shouted (probably louder than anyone else before him had heard him speak, Connor thought with a small, but amused smirk). 

“Can you take ten steps back?!”

A scowl appeared on Connor’s face; he had been asked to only stand there after all. 

Evan seemed to read his mind as he raised his hand again. “Please?!”

Connor rolled his eyes and huffed again, but complied and took ten steps backwards.

A frown of confusion slowly began to replace his scowl, when he realise that no matter how many steps he took back (he had most certainly passed the ten steps Evan had asked for), Evan didn’t appear to get any further away. “What the fuck?” he muttered to himself before groaning.

First, a boy he barely knew at school beyond the two facts that his last name was Hansen, and that he was the only other outcast in their grade appeared out of thin air as a ghostly apparition,  _ AND _ failed his attempt at suicide. And now, what?

He sighed as he began to walk back towards Evan who did so, in turn, and shoved his hands into his jacket, itching for a cigarette he didn’t have. This was all too much honestly.

“Um-” Evan began nervously, or rather, more so than he had already been speaking in.

Connor harshly interrupted him. “What, Evan? What now?”

Evan flinched at his tone, and he swore that the other appeared to almost be on the verge of tears.

Connor closed his eyes,  _ knowing _ that he shouldn’t have spoken to Evan like that; especially in his anxious state. He knew as much as Connor did himself after all.

“Did you figure anything out from that?” Connor asked, his voice calmer than it had been.

Evan glanced back at Connor wearily, before deciding that he was genuinely asking him a question and not making fun of him. “Um- yeah, I think so.”

“What?”

“Well, um- it-it sounds so, um……. Unbelievable?” He replied, pinching the corner of his lip.

Connor raised an eyebrow; this whole situation of theirs was unbelievable. “How so?”

“Well um, you know how I said I couldn’t move because it was like um- it was like there was a rope around my waist?” 

Connor hummed in reply; he did.

“Well um- I think that uh- that metaphorical rope is.. Attached… to you?” He said, moving both his hands down to the hem of his blue-and-white striped polo shirt.

Before Connor could reply however, Evan continued. “Like um- when I walk a certain distance away from you - maybe a hundred meters or so? - it’s um- it’s like I can’t walk. But um when you began walking backwards I was kinda um, dragged along with you? I’m-I’m sorry, it sounds- it sounds like I’m lying but I’m- I’m not-”

“Don’t apologise Hansen.” He sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. He was tired; too tired to be angry or annoyed at Evan, and the universe for putting him in such a situation. It was the kind of tired that seeped into your bones, and sleep for a hundred years. “I doubt you know more than I do, so I’ll believe you.”

Evan relaxes at Connor’s reply, probably thinking that he would be mocked at the very least. “What do um- what do we do now?” He asks quietly, his gaze returning to Connor.

“Nothing,” Connor said simply with a shrug. “I don’t really see anything we can do given the situation, and frankly, I’m too fucking tired to deal with it right now.”

“I-I don’t want to be a bother but what- what about me?”

Connor closed his eyes for a minute, stopping himself from rolling them before opening them again. “You’ll have to come home with me, obviously.”

“I-I don’t want to be an- an imposition or anything. And-and my mum! She’s gonna worry! And I-I-I mean, I’ve already bother you enough --- I couldn’t do that to your family as well --- but what will we tell them- I mean, this isn’t exactly normal-”

“Hansen,” Connor interrupted, sure that Evan would have rambled his way through the night without someone stopping him. “First of all, you said it yourself, you are in a coma or whatever, so your parents aren’t gonna know you’re ‘ _ spiritually _ ’ with me.” He began, not noticing how Evan pursed his lips and tightened his fists. “Second of all, we can’t do anything about it right now; and third, what makes you think anyone else besides me can see you?”

Evan relaxed his shoulders slightly. “What?” He asked, blinking at Connor in confusion.

“For all we know, I’m the only one who can see you and to anyone else, I look more of a psycho than people think I already do.” He began.

Evan looked like he wanted to say something in reply, but thought better of it and closed his mouth.

“If that’s the case, then I really don’t care if you’re at my house or not Evan.” He finished.

“O-Oh, okay then.” Evan replied, his voice unsure but compliant. “So um-, should we go? It’s uh getting kinda late?”

“Sure, whatever.” Connor shrugged, walking past Evan and down the street, towards his car. He glanced behind him, seeing Evan quickly following after him, shoulders tense and staring at the ground.

They walked to Connor’s car in silence until Evan broke the heavy but not yet awkward, silence between them once they got to the vehicle he had parked a couple blocks over.

“Is this your car?” Evan asked, trying to make friendly conversation as Connor split away from him, heading to the driver’s seat.

“Not technically, but I’m the only one who uses it.” He replied as they both got into the car; Evan put his seatbelt on, Connor didn’t.

Evan glanced at Connor, and Connor saw that the other probably didn’t like his lack of seatbelt but he didn’t care.

“It’s nice.” Evan politely replied, instead of lecturing Connor like he thought he was going to.

Connor snorted. “No it’s not; it’s a piece of junk."

“No, it’s nice- I think it’s nice.” Evan replied, staring out the window ahead.

Connor just hummed in reply as he shoved his keys into the ignition and pulled away from the curb.


End file.
